Less than 24 hours after his stunning Wimbledon victory, Andy Murray was
tasting defeat – albeit in a one-point thriller – to a sunburnt Telegraph
reporter in his work shoes.

Maybe it was his lack of sleep; maybe he was put off by an opponent wearing a suit; or maybe tarmac wasn’t his surface of choice.

Or maybe I was just too good.

A rather groggy-looking Andy Murray was taking part in a promotional event for one of his sponsors, Adidas, in which the first 100 people to show up would have a chance to create their own personal moment of history by trying to “Hit the Winner” against Britain’s new favourite sporting hero.

For me this was my equivalent of serving for the championship on Centre Court. I had three and a half hours to plan my strategy as I waited in the queue outside a sports centre in Kennington, south London. Judging by the result, it was time well spent.

My name was eventually called out and Murray, on the other side of the net, casually asked: “Ready?” The truth was, I was anything but.

All the concentration I could muster was focused on not sending Murray’s whizzing topspin forehand straight into the net. The ball bounced, I took a swing at it, and then to my amazement, my return forehand skimmed over the tape, and back into the open court.

As I lunged forward to try and anticipate his sliced reply to my shot, the ball dropped on his side of the net. Technically, I had just beaten the Wimbledon champion, in a one point thriller.

Against the world No1 on the finest court in the world, the Scot had made just 21 unforced errors in the whole of Sunday’s final. Here was number 22.

I momentarily thought about sinking to my knees in this most glorious moment of triumph, but Murray seemed distinctly underwhelmed and merely walked back to the baseline without comment as his next opponent was lined up.

For me, there was no £1.6m prize, sponsorship deal or glamorous ball to attend. My reward was to pose with several other one-point winners together with Murray and the trophy at the Black Prince Community Hub tennis court.

It might not sound like much, but at least it was proof that I had beaten Britain’s first Wimbledon men's singles champion for 77 years.